The Dream Catcher Diaries

by Alexander Patrick

‘No, it’s just,’ he hesitated. ‘I’ve been talking.’

  ‘Who to?’

  ‘The others,’ he said.

  Now I understood. He had been talking to the other discards. ‘Oh, I see. Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s nice to know that you’re not enjoying giving me pain.’ I almost added ‘any more’ – but thought better of it. He wasn’t in the mood for humour.

  His good-natured face was screwed up. ‘You know you need to talk, as well?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘David, you need to talk. It would be good for you; it’ll take some of the nightmares away.’

  ‘What makes you think I have nightmares?’

  ‘I know. I’ve heard some of them.’ He was referring to my babbling when he had given me my medicine.

  ‘I don’t need to talk. I’m writing it all down.’

  ‘You are?’

  ‘Don’t sound so surprised. I write; you know that. I write down my nightmares, my memories. I get them out of my head and, one day, I’ll burn the whole lot.’

  ‘Is this them,’ he said, pointing to a pile of papers. He picked them up. ‘I thought this was more of Tristan’s adventures.’

  ‘No, they’re my memoirs.’ I watched him as he picked up my notes. I could feel them pulling at me with their insistent memories.

  **********************

  They had left me. I was all alone in the dark, in my room, in the apartment. They had all gone. They had things to do, plans to make, a body to dispose of.

  Mine.

  I lay waiting for them to return. I had no choice; I could see but I couldn’t move. I had been thrown down the stairs and I had expected to die. I had wanted to fly one last time before I died. I would fly again, except this time I would be trussed in a body bag. I would fly down to my death to a thick clinging grave.

  **********************

  ‘Will you let me read them?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘David!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I said, will you let me read them?’

  ‘I don’t want to give you my nightmares; I care too much for your sanity,’ I said casually. ‘As I said, I intend to burn them.’

  ‘That would be a pity.’

  ‘Not for me. Now, stick that bloody needle in me!’

  ‘On one condition.’

  ‘Does it have anything to do with my scribblings?’

  He pointed to the whisky bottle. ‘None of that, at least for a while.’

  I groaned.

  ‘And I want you to start to go easy on the stuff permanently. You drink too much.’

  ‘Just get on with it.’

  He injected cortisone into my knee and hip. The pain was deep and intense. I held my breath. He watched me carefully. I closed my eyes; I didn’t want to see his concern.

  **********************

  They had things to do, people to see; some were planning my death; some were planning my torment.

  ‘One last time,’ Amos had said, ‘one long night before he goes, one long night of endless suffering, of time without meaning and agony beyond death.’ They had gone to fetch Paula. It was his right, his revenge after all – and so I waited for them to return.

  I lay there thinking of my captors. I wondered what sort of children they must have been. Were they the sort of boys who pulled off spider legs and taunted little girls? And did those little girls grow up to be women who spurned and despised them? Did those spiders become people like me?

  I thought of Mother – how she had looked, how she had sat hunched over her crutches with her scowl and her sneer and her cross mouth.

  I thought of Whitey – cold, emotionless, empty. I thought of them all and I was filled with pity. I thought of myself and my wasted life and tears rolled down my cheek. I had meant to do so much, achieve so much, be something to people who mattered. I had meant to touch people with my thoughts, my words and my actions – a force for good, for compassion.

  In the end, I had become broken beyond repair, alone in a room full of dread, waiting for torture and death, a sad broken man who meant nothing to anyone beyond a joke, a cartoon joke – Matrix the cartoon villain, not a man who would rule the world, but a dirty boy in a dirty world.

  **********************

  I opened my eyes. Andrew was still watching me. ‘You’re a very remarkable man,’ he said. ‘And we need to ensure you have a clear head for what’s to come. Too many lives are at stake.’

  ‘It’s going too slowly.’

  ‘We need money.’

  ‘I have an idea about that,’ I said rubbing my leg.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘I have some thoughts on how we can make a lot of money – enough to finance some arms and more safe houses.’

  ‘More books?’

  ‘Better than that.’

  He looked puzzled. ‘Tell me,’ he said.

  ‘Fabian is going to fund us.’

  He stared, looked incredulous and laughed. ‘For a moment then I thought you were being serious.’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’

  ‘Easy; we help ourselves.’

  He still looked puzzled.

  ‘Andrew, we steal it, what do you think?’

  ‘You must be mad! They would crucify you if they ever found out.’

  ‘They can only crucify me once. I’m already top of their wanted list. I expect you’re not far behind.’

  ‘How?’

  I grinned. ‘I have an idea. Have you heard of the Thursday Club?’

  He frowned. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘It’s an exclusive club in London. It’s a group of rich men who meet on Thursdays at a place called Madison House. It’s often referred to as the Madison Group. A man by the name of Martin Harrison is a prominent member of the group. Some say he was a founding member.’

  ‘Who’s Martin Harrison?’

  ‘He’s Commander-in-Chief of New Fabian.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You’re mad.’

  ‘I have a plan.’

  ‘Whatever it is, I can say now it’s too dangerous.’

  ‘We can get a lot of money quickly. We need the money.’

  ‘Even so.’

  ‘We infiltrate the Madison Group. We get one of ours behind the doors and we take them to the cleaners.’

  ‘You’ll never get anyone in. You just said it was for the rich and famous. We don’t know anyone like that.’

  I smiled. ‘I’ve already done it.’

  At that moment, the front door opened. We both shut up quickly like naughty schoolboys. Sonia walked in. That was all I needed.

  ‘Ah, hello, Sonia.’ Andrew managed to sound pleased.

  ‘It can’t be time for you to clean the house, again.’ I said grumpily.

  ‘I’ve brought you some stew,’ said Sonia. ‘I made too much for Father, so I thought you would like some.’

  I grunted.

  ‘That was very nice of you,’ said Andrew. ‘Let me help you.’

  I grabbed hold of his arm as he stood up to follow Sonia into the kitchen. ‘Get rid of her!’ I hissed. ‘Stay for some stew, Andrew,’ I added louder, for Sonia to hear.

  He disappeared into the kitchen. I could hear whispering and smell the stew. I sat and waited.

  **********************

  I opened my eyes and my heart leapt in disbelief, fear and panic. Was I already too late? I thought of Mother and her crutches. How many pairs of crutches would she have? I had no idea, but I did know one thing; I had to find out; and I had to find out now.

  Spider had shut my door but he hadn’t locked it; at least, I didn’t think so. I hadn’t heard anything. I pulled myself onto my left side and began the slow process of dragging my crippled body along the floor. I used my elbow, left hip and leg to crawl crab-like along towards the door. I could see a thin sliver of light shining under the door and into my darkness.


  Every move was a touch of agony, every shuffle forward a cry of triumph. The door crept slowly closer and closer until at last I was up against it, panting with the pain and exertion. I looked up at the handle, but it was too dark to see anything. I could guess though. I lifted my arm up; I stretched up; I groped in the dark; I touched something cold and metallic and I pulled at it. The door swung open and I fell into the living area.

  And so the crawling began once more. I crawled out and through a clutter of furniture, gadgets and stuffed toys. Someone collected stuffed toys. I followed their trail and it took me into Mother’s bedroom. I could smell her immediately. The heavy musk she wore and the sweat of her armpits greeted me as soon as I entered the room. So did the sight of a pair of old crutches propped up between two cupboards. Some spares! I crawled across and pulled them out. They were old and tatty; one had been broken and then crudely repaired. I pulled myself up on them.

  I had never used crutches before and being upright filled me with intense nausea. So much so that I had the satisfaction of throwing up on Mother’s bed and some of her stuffed toys. It didn’t make me feel any better, though. The room still spun and whirled, my stomach still wanted to empty its contents and my leg and side were agony; none of that mattered.

  I was going to escape.

  **********************

  Sonia came in and laid the table for two. I had picked up my book and was running my fingers swiftly across the page. She paused for a moment to watch, but I said nothing. She went back into the kitchen with a sigh.

  **********************

  I had things to do before I could escape. First, I had to get dressed. Second, I desperately needed a shot.

  Once dressed, I searched the place for alcohol, drugs and money. I found them eventually but not before I had trashed the place looking for them. I filled my arm full of drugs, my pockets full of money and poured whisky down my throat; I felt a lot better. I was probably grinning at my own cleverness. I then trashed the place properly. I smashed all the media systems and gadgets with Mother’s old crutches. I pissed over the beds. I threw all the hard porn out of the window and as many sex toys as I could carry. I turned on taps to flood the bathroom and kitchen; I shit on the beds I hadn’t pissed on. I took a knife to the stuffed toys. I did consider torturing them, but changed my mind – although I did hang one up by its neck right by the front door; it was a hideous green dog-like animal. I then left.

  Luckily the lift was working and soon I found myself out on the street. I was a mute, a cripple and homeless. I didn’t even know where I was, but I was high as a kite – and that wasn’t just because of the drugs.

  **********************

  Andrew came back in. ‘I have to go now, David,’ he said. ‘Sonia will look after you.’

  ‘We haven’t finished.’

  ‘I’ll come up tomorrow after surgery.’ He left before I could say any more.

  Sonia came back in with two bowls of stew. It was only then that I realised she was staying for dinner. I moved across awkwardly, cursing lightly as I did so. She sat opposite me and I glared at the bowl of stew. It would have been hot so I waited.

  **********************

  Being penniless, mute, crippled, in permanent pain and hooked on drugs is not an ideal start to any adventure and my initial elation soon descended into gloom, depression and intense cold.

  My first priority was to leave the city and head north.

  It had to be Scotland, not just because I’m a Scot, but because I thought I would be safe there. Scotland had no Section Twenty-six. This was nonsense; it didn’t matter where I was caught, if I was caught, because whoever did the catching would send me back to a social care home, and they could easily send me back to Amos and Spider.

  I didn’t expect to be believed.

  **********************

  ‘Eat up, David,’ said Sonia.

  ‘I’m waiting for it to cool,’ I snapped.

  ‘Well, stop staring at it.’

  ‘What makes you think I’m staring?’

  ‘I thought ...’

  ‘I’m smelling it.’

  She hesitated. ‘Are your eyes bad tonight?’

  I leaned back and scowled. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you ... can you see me?’

  I glanced up. ‘No, not really.’

  ‘Oh.’ She sounded disappointed.

  ‘Does it matter? Do you look any different tonight?’

  She was silent.

  ‘I can’t see much in the middle of my vision,’ I explained. ‘I can only see the edges.’

  ‘Is it always like that?’

  ‘No, it moves about. But that’s how it is tonight.’

  ‘I see.’

  I felt I was upsetting her so I changed the subject. ‘How are the wedding plans?’

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Better let me know when you fix the date. I need to keep my diary free.’

  I was being sarcastic, but all she said was, ‘Second Saturday in June.’

  ‘What a pity, I’m busy that day.’

  ‘Oh, David, do you have to be so difficult?’

  ‘Now, I thought that would please you.’

  She sighed. ‘I wish you weren’t so ... you make it so difficult for me.’

  ‘I don’t see ...’

  She sighed again. ‘We need to talk,’ she said.

  I knew then that I was in trouble and Andrew had set me up nicely. I wanted her to leave. I wanted to be alone.

  **********************

  I wasn’t thinking logically. At the time I had no idea that there could be other places like that of the Ross twins. I had assumed I had been incredibly unlucky. But the idea of going to the police and informing them did not occur to me, partly because I would have problems making them understand, but also because of my previous experience when I had tried to escape.

  As well as all this, I only really wanted one thing now and that was to keep my arm full. I needed drugs more than I needed anything else.

  I was right not to go to the police; I may have been lucky and found an honest police officer, but I was more likely to find a Fabian or simply one who would only see a dope head and nothing more. I was not in a position to make a good first impression.

  **********************

  I stirred my stew morosely. ‘Have you changed your mind about my money?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘That’s for your own good. You’re a selfish, hedonistic man and I’m looking after your soul. It’s what Judith would have wanted.’

  ‘Then, we’ve nothing to say to each other.’

  We had barely been on speaking terms since she had stopped me spending money. I hadn’t wanted her in the house. Andrew had convinced me otherwise. He was right; I was wrong – but it didn’t mean I wanted to spend any more time with her than I had to.

  She leaned forward. ‘I think you could be a good man,’ she said.

  I said nothing.

  **********************

  I made all the right decisions for all the wrong reasons. I soon discovered I was in Manchester. I had to get out before Amos and Spider set their people onto me. I found the railway station, hung around watching and listening; then late in the night I found a goods train going north. I smuggled myself on board.

  Somewhere along the journey the guards found me; we pulled up at a deserted depot, they threw me off the train and they beat the shit out of me. When they had finished I could barely move. They took everything: my money, my whisky, my bag – everything except my crutches. They let me keep those. I was a crippled mute, alone, cold, penniless and – worst – without my bag of precious drugs. Whatever happened now, I needed drugs.

  **********************

  Sonia continued. ‘I want you to stop going away. I think you should get a job and stay in the village.’

  ‘Do you, now?’

  ‘You don’t have to spend time with those people. You can leave the past behind. You’ve a daughter to th
ink of. I think you should have Caitlin up here permanently. You ignored her for nine years. You’ve a lot of making up to do.’

  ‘Sonia, I have no making up to do, as you put it. I didn’t know of her existence until her mother presented her to me.’

  ‘That’s no excuse; you’re responsible for her. She thinks the world of you. You owe her. You’ve sinned and you’ve never accepted that. You’re self-centred and self-indulgent. You think only of your own pleasure. David, I want you to change – I need you to change.’

  ‘It’s funny what you say, Sonia. You’re right; Caitlin does think the world of me – even though I’m all those bad things. The fact is, she doesn’t care. She knows me; she loves me; that makes her a better person than you. She has accepted her yellow-eyed devil-of-a-father.’ I was getting in my stride now and I was furious. I’d had enough. ‘The fact is, if I’m such a terrible person, why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep coming here week after week to clean my house? I don’t want you here. You know that – and yet you still keep coming. You still keep lecturing me. I am what I am. If you have problems with that, then fuck off!’

  I half rose to my feet and then the pain in my leg jerked me back. I slumped. ‘Get out of my house,’ I said quietly. ‘Get out now and don’t come back.’

  ‘David...’

  ‘Get out!’

  She hesitated for a moment and then left.

  **********************

  I was wrong when I said they took everything except my crutches; they missed a knife secreted inside my trousers. I had taken a number of knives from my bedroom. They were all sharp; I could personally testify to that, as I had experienced most of them. The guards thought they had taken them all, but they had missed this one. That was all I needed to get what I wanted.

  I had only one drive: to satisfy my craving for drugs. Amos had filled me up every night. It had been cheap stuff with lots of nasty side effects. I hadn’t really noticed too much, given what his clients were doing to me, but the drugs had been enough to make me want more, make me want nothing else.

  I had no money and no means to earn money – so I stole it. I wasn’t particularly good at it. Once I stopped a woman with a large bag. She took one look at me and screamed abuse. She took her bag and swung it at me, knocking me flat and jogging my knife out of my hand. I made an undignified scrabble for it, leapt to my feet and held it to her throat.